


Life's Not Fair (And Everything Else We Already Knew)

by graywrites



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Angst, F/F, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:43:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8046253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graywrites/pseuds/graywrites
Summary: Who controls anything in a world that's as dark and angry as everyone living in it? And what's growing up? And why is nothing ever okay? Maya has been tired for as long as she can remember.





	Life's Not Fair (And Everything Else We Already Knew)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt! "Nothing good happens after two AM"

Maya is not stupid, and so by two in the morning with liquor on her lips and air that stings like chlorine filling up her lungs, she will turn around and go home and know when to stop.

If only, if only, and the world around her cries out, _what a precious joke!_

Nothing good happens after two am. Drunk and lovesick and stupid, but this much Maya will still acknowledge as she tiptoes across a metaphorical ledge and wishes over and over for better days and a clear mind, in place of this. 

Maya is stupid. Okay, that’s fine. Or maybe she’s just drunk, or maybe, even, if we were to take a moment to acknowledge such adolescent behavior, just perhaps, none of this is even her fault. Maybe it’s the world, or space, or something incomprehensibly big, and bitter, and vengeful doing this to her, something abstract and angry flooding her chest with absent laughter that burns, and maybe, for once, it doesn’t have to be her fault. 

If only, if only. 

Drunk and stumbling with chattering teeth on a hot night, Maya is stupid, and it’s two in the morning, so she knocks. Three sharp knocks that can not be her fault, and always reliable and steady in an arbitrary world, Riley opens the window, and for some reason, Maya wants to cry.

Everything is fuzzy around the edges like burning film at the beginning of a bad indie movie you would watch in August at three in the morning when you can’t prove anything is real and just don’t want the sun to rise, and so Maya blinks three times as something bright and kind and _good_ asks her what’s wrong, is she drunk, what is she doing? 

Maya can answer exactly one of those questions, and wishes it was multiple choice, or that she had a calculator, or a cheat sheet, or something to guide her through this tangled confusion and big brown eyes, but she says nothing, just allows a bitter laugh to escape her teeth, and again, her chest tightens. 

Maya is stupid, and Maya is dizzy, and it’s two in the morning, roughly, and really, Maya should go home. 

But something inexplicable- or maybe, just cheap liquor- begs Maya to do things she will regret in the morning. 

But, hey, it’s almost three in the morning, now, see, and so nothing is really real, and nothing totally exists, so if Maya can just bury her qualms now, and just get all of these unspoken words out of her throat, maybe she can open her mouth and start to speak, really speak to be listened to by a universe that is big and dark and angry, just like the rest of everything when she’s not with Riley. 

Maya does not need the universe to tell her that she’s an idiot; she knows this on her own, oh God, does she, and she leans forward into big brown eyes that are stitched with concern, because, Maya isn’t talking! She’s just standing there! And what’s that all about?

Maya knows, even though she doesn’t want to, and an expanding, all powerful Unknown is just as aware as it lurks on her shoulders, heavier than she’s awake enough to carry, but will anyways, a martyr for her kind, she thinks, and that is how they will remember her when she’s more gone than she is now, further away than an empty late night, when everything is lighter and the air isn’t so hard to breathe anymore.

But, where was she?

She doesn’t know. Or she does, but can’t put it all together now- cheap liquor, the sincere medium of everything. 

Riley, beautiful and good and bright, and Maya kisses her without saying anything, because her throat kind of burns and the world is kind of pale and bright at the same time, and it’s really making her uncomfortable, to be quite honest for once in her life.

Riley pulls back, and Maya can only deduce that the world will momentarily be just as confusing for her as it is for Maya, and that makes her crumble, because it’s her fault, then, isn’t it? How fucked up. Why’d she have to go and ruin everything? The world is as empty as everyone else; there is no great force that alleviates the blame from Maya. 

Is this what growing up is? Taking responsibility? 

Maya doesn’t want it. And she doesn’t know what she has to owe to this moment of dizzy clarity- it’s probably just as much a spinning lie as everything else is. Nothing makes sense. Aren’t things supposed to make sense? Isn’t that what growing up is?

Maya’s inner monologue that proves she is just as narcissistic as everyone else comes to a halting stop as the Good of The World opens her mouth. 

It’s all stutters and mumbles and a beautiful way to shatter the idea that such a good thing can’t be just as human as everyone else, but Maya flinches, because enough things have been broken tonight, and it’s mostly all her fault. 

In a sad, gentle way, Riley is honest, and Maya is halfway out the door, barely holding herself up under an angry great Unknown, and both of them break, if in very different ways.

Everything is hot and still and dark, quieter than Maya thought it’d be, and for the billionth time, she tries to sink into the darkness like everything else, and pretend that she’s not real.

And suddenly, from nowhere at all, she’s incredibly tired, or maybe just drained. And in the morning, she knows, she will wake with a pounding headache and an aching throat and a sense of reality that she doesn’t want, and three in the morning will have to be real, and she doesn’t want that.

You can’t out walk a rising sun; this Maya knows. She isn’t stupid. And so in the morning, things will have to be real. But, Maya decides, she really doesn’t want to be there when it does. 

So she might as well bury her dizzy head in dreams, if she can muster that, right? Before the sun rises. She doesn’t need to be awake when everything breaks even more. That would be too much for her.

She ruined everything, and she’s going to have to deal with the consequences when she wakes up. 

_That’s growing up,_ a dark world says, and she hears it all around her, and she’s sure that everyone still awake must hear it, too, even though it’s such a private statement to be made a spectacle of. 

Nothing good happens after two in the morning. What a bitter world.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Reviews mean a lot to me, so if you'd maybe wanna do that, ya know. request a fic at gayrilaya.tumblr.com/ask


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